Monday, February 27, 2006

Getting medieval on my ass

My wheelie chair shakes. "Steady, steady" I whisper to it as I perch nervously, breathing plumes of condensation into the cold corridor air. It's past 5pm, they've turned the heating off and so we'd looked for something to do - and found a new use for the cardboard tubes stashed in our office.

I am facing Keith who is sitting at the other end of the corridor. I see his cardboard lance aiming menacingly at my head and adjust my position accordingly. This could all go horribly wrong. Suddenly Kez drops the hanky and we charge. There's no time to think.

Frantic pushing with the back foot launches my stead into action we hurtle towards each other. The dynamics of a wheelie chair are shocking and I ricochet off the corridor wall. But before I have time to tame the beast Keith is in my face. I manage to get my lance to collide with his back rest. We have unromantically stopped and the joust has now turned into a messy prodding match. I have a poor seat position and am wide open. It's useless, getting poked with a cardboard tube is a funny thing and Keith tickles me off my trusty chair. I fall to the floor, possibly in slow motion, defeated.

Kez's valour will not be mine.

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